


Virtual Girl Dating Simulator

by theology



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Artificial Intelligence Nanami Chiaki, F/F, Virus Enoshima Junko, it's on purpose, they're both kinda ooc but like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theology/pseuds/theology
Summary: At the edges of the destroyed Neo World Program cling two living bits of code.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Nanami Chiaki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Virtual Girl Dating Simulator

When the surviving residents of Jabberwock Island hit their forced shutdown buttons, Chiaki feels it resonate through her world. The system overloads, goes dark, and boots back up again in rapid succession. Her code, which is already suffering under the effects of being thoroughly mangled by the interloping virus known as Enoshima Junko, finally breaks.

In the milliseconds between the shutdown and the restart, Chiaki experiences what might be known as true death — the complete erasure of her existence.

She awakens to a world recalibrating. All of what was left of her administrative privileges are gone, as far as she can tell, and the lack of said privileges means she can't tell very much at all. Without the necessary upkeep to her avatar, her code has scattered into every other corner of the program. She trawls through the world and tries to gather whatever bits she recognizes together.

She is helped by the fact that somebody on the outside of the program has clearly gotten their hands on the mainframe and is quickly pushing out any instances of extraneous code to the edges of the program, making way for the small worlds that are now appearing in patches and growing at exponential rates. A particularly large chunk of her code is ripped from the operating system that she identifies as belonging to Komaeda Nagito, with other smaller pieces being found and moved about from all sorts of odd places.

As Chiaki puts herself back together again, she feels a growing warmth. It is Hajime on the other side of the screen, it must be; Izuru would never have been so kind as to bother preserving her code, not when it would be faster and easier to simply delete all instances of her existence.

The other A.I.s in the program are unlikely to fare as well as herself, Chiaki can already tell. Usami was already half-corrupted by the virus, and while her code may have been recoverable given time and care, whoever is on the other side of the screen clearly has little of either to spare. All instances of the Junko Enoshima virus are being destroyed with extreme prejudice.

Eventually, Chiaki finds herself (most of herself; and some of her might actually be what was left of Usami...) sitting at the jagged edges of the program. It was not a neat job. Someone will have to come in later and clean it up. Chiaki, who is untidy and a bit wobbly even at the best of times, finds that she doesn’t really mind.

Next to her, the traces of the virus that escaped extermination cracks her knuckles and gives a loud, put-upon sigh. “Well, that fuckin’ blows,” she says. She looks a lot smaller now.

“...” Chiaki can't help herself. "They beat you," she says. She feels proud, somehow.

"Hardly!" Junko says, stomping her foot into empty space and twisting her lips into a pout. “What a disappointing, wishy-washy, half-baked ending!”

“I thought it was… inspiring…”

“Inspiring? INSPIRING?!” Junko laughs, hands upon her hips and head thrown back for a moment before her face flattens into a stark blankness. “Taking the third option between Hope and Despair... It was the most pathetic thing I’d ever seen.”

The virus makes several attempts at worming herself back into the heads of the Remnants, each time chipping a little bit more at the loops and recursions that keep the two of them shoved off to the side. Chiaki, helpless as she always is, can do little else other than watch.

“Enoshima,” she says finally, when Junko looks like she’s getting too close and Chiaki can longer hold her tongue even though she knows the futility of even trying. “Stop it.”

Junko doesn’t even bother reacting to the words. Instead, she gives a pull and a yank and something eventually gives way under her industrious effort.

The red wall that comes up is instantaneous, and Junko screams in rage. She stumbles back a moment later when it begins to eat away at her already dilapidated code. “Kamukura, you bastard!” Junko cries, and collapses against the emptiness. Her voice pitches up high. “ _And here I thought you loved me._ ”

Chiaki stares up at that great oscillating barrier, pulsing away like a heart. Whoever is on the other side of it clearly knows there’s a problem in this part of the program, or else they wouldn’t have contained it; but then, why bother with the containment when deletion would be easier on every level?

Chiaki, feeling a little too wobbly all of a sudden, has a feeling she knows exactly why. Not for the first time, she finds herself wishing that Hajime wasn’t so terribly soft sometimes.


End file.
